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POEMS 

WISE and OTHERWISE 

By 

EVAN Y. DAVIES 



"Many are 'poets who have never penned their 
inspirations; hut perchance their best they 
thought and felt .**** and compressed the God 
within them.'^ — Byron. 



-^ 



NEWARK, N. J. 

THE ESSEX PRESS, Printers 

1920 






Copyright, 1920, by Evan Y. Davies 



JAN 21 1920 
©C/.A561545 



This small volume is dedicated to my dear mother, 
who has been the inspiration of my life, while thoughts 
of her unselfish love have acted as an anchor to wind- 
ward and often saved me from being wrecked on the 
rocks of adversity. 



INTRODUCTION 

In presenting this book of poems and miscellaneous 
verses to the public the author claims nothing new for 
them, and only does so on account of the solicitations 
of many friends, who have from time to time ex- 
pressed their desire for a copy of some particular 
piece. Trusting those who have generously sub- 
scribed in advance, in order to insure its publication, 
will not be disappointed in the contents, I remain, 



Kind friends, don't criticize too hard 

This little book of verse; 
For many an immortal bard 

No doubt has written worse. 



CONTENTS 



PHILOSOPHICAL POEMS Page 

Advice to My Son 11 

Some People 14 

Philosophy Up to Date 16 

RELIGIOUS POEMS 

Easter Anthem 21 

Christmas Carol 23 

Master Mariner 25 

Christmas Bells 27 

Psalm of Life 28 

MOTHER SONGS 

Sweet Memories of By-gone Days 31 

My Mother 33 

In Memoriam 35 

PATRIOTIC POEMS 

Call to Patriots, The 39 

Emblem of Liberty, The 41 

Summons, The 43 

Soldier's Last Wish, A 45 



PATRIOTIC FOUMS— Continued Page 

Decoration Day 46 

Remember the Maine 47 

Booze versus Bonds 49 

Preparedness 50 

Ode to Washington 51 

Flag of Our Fathers 54 

IRISH SONGS 

Irish Exile's Song, The 57 

St. Patrick's Day 59 

NEWARK CELEBRATION POEMS 

Newark Past and Present 63 

Celebration Episode 67 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

Song of the "Grip," The 75 

My Lady Love 77 

Masher IMashed, A 79 

Boston Red Sox vs. New York Giants 82 

(Owed) to My Pipe 83 

Retrospection 85 

Tribute to Roosevelt 86 

Keep Plugging 87 

Miscellaneous Verses 87-91 



PHILOSOPHIC POEMS 



ADVICE TO MY SON! 

My son take heed, the path that downward leads 
Commences with the first false step you take 

Continuing on, until more wicked deeds 
Drag down the soul into hell's fiery lake. 

Be sure you're right then bravely go ahead. 
Nor fail to look before you take a leap ; 

Choose well your friends, for it is truly said : 
That men are known by company they keep. 

Use not the weed in any of its forms — 

It is a filthy habit at its best — 
And paves the way for far more serious storms 

That ofttimes rage within the human breast. 

Read not the trashy novels of the day, 
A better use for thy spare moments find ; 

They weaken while they lead the heart astray, 
And sow corruption in the youthful mind. 

11 



Poems — Wise 



Touch not nor taste the intoxicating glass, 
It is the direst curse that man can know; 

It ruins soul and body, and alas, 
Sinks tens of thousands in the deepest woe. 

Be proof against the most alluring vice, 
For virtue is a pearl, when once 'tis lost 

Can ne'er recovered be, at any price, 
And fearfully it doth the loser cost. 

Give not thy tongue to slangy terms of speech, 
Nor e'er besmirch thy lips with words profane; 

As sure as there's a heav'n a curse will reach 
All those who take their Maker's name in vain. 

Think not to beat another at his game 

Nor waste thy substance foolishly at play ; 

'Twill bring thee down to misery and shame, 
And end by gambling e'en thy soul away. 

12 



And Otherwise 



It is a big asset to be well dressed, 

For if your clothes are good and fit correct 

Those whom you meet no doubt will be impressed, 
And treat you as quite worthy of respect. 

Truth crushed to earth again will surely rise, 
As does the sun above the heavens blue ; 

A liar bold all honest men despise, 

But honor him who scorns to be untrue. 

Do not be envious of another*s state, 
Nor covetous of what is not thine own ; 

But humbly fill thine own allotted fate ; 
A mind content brings happiness alone. 

Life at the most is but a little span, 
So do thy best and ever keep in mind 

Thy duty unto God and brother man. 
Thus leave a cherished memory behind. 

13 



Poems — Wise 

SOME PEOPLE 

Some people pass along through life 

Without a seeming care, 
While others meet with bitter strife, 

And troubles have their share; 
But what's the use of worrying. 

Or sinking in despair? 
It doesn't bring you anything. 

Nor take you anywhere. 

Some people think this world was made 

For their especial use, 
And should you look to them for aid 

Are apt to raise the deuce ; 
But I'll assure you of one fact, 

In lauguage not profuse; 
A pleasant word, or kindly act, 

Goes further than abuse. 

14 



And Otherwise 



Some people feel quite brave enough 

While things are going fine, 
But when they start to getting rough 

Are willing to resign ; 
Hence you will find it is no boast — 

This plain remark of mine : 
The time you need your courage most 

Is on the firing line. 



IS 



Poems — Wise 



PHILOSOPHY UP TO DATE 

Gone is the day of famous masterpieces; 

Commercialism takes the place of art : 
The greed for gold and lust for power increases, 

While some for them e'en from their souls would 
part. 

Most people deem that I am very funny, 
Because I do not seek for fame or wealth ; 

But God forbid that I should worship money, 
Or for ambition sacrifice my health. 

I am content to earn an honest living 

And save a little for a rainy day ; 
I'd also like to make enough for giving 

My share to worthy charities away. 

I do not say I'd scornfully refuse it, 

Should fortune grant to me a well filled purse ; 
It is a blessing when we wisely use it. 

And squandered foolishly it proves a curse. 

16 



And Otherwise 



We bring naught in this world upon arriving 
And take but very little when we leave ; 

Then why should we for riches vain be striving. 
When there are nobler objects to achieve. 

We are but stewards of our time and talents, 
For which we all must give a just account ; 

Then, when the Great Bookkeeper strikes the balanre, 
Hell credit, or will debit the amount. 

L'Envoi 

Fd rather dwell quite humble in a cottage, 
Partaking of the plainest kind of fare, 

Than trade my birthright for a mess of pottage. 
Or sell my muse to boost some merchant's ware. 



17 



RELIGIOUS POEMS 



EASTER ANTHEM 

Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! 

In his glory from the grave ; 
Conqu'ring hell and death's dark prison, 

By the sacrifice He gave; 
With His hands and feet nail-driven 
And His side by spear-point riven 
He now intercedes in Heaven, 

Every sinful soul to save. 

Chorus : 

All hail! all hail! the risen Christ, our 

Saviour, Lord and King; 
Rejoice! rejoice with gladsome voice, 

until the Heavens ring; 
"Hosanna in the highest, alleluiah," 

angels sing : 
"O grave, where is thy victory? O 

death, where is thy sting?" 

21 



Poems — Wise 



Christ is living! Christ is living! 

On this joyous Easter morn ; 
Peace and blest assurance giving 

Unto every heart forlorn; 
Through the cross's sacred merit, 
Love divine and Holy Spirit, 
Life eternal we inherit 

And anew in Him are born. 



SCRIPTURAL PARAPHRASE 

The human heart when in its natural state 
Is desperately wicked and above 

All things deceitful, full of hate. 
Until regenerated by God's love. 



22 



And Otherwis 



A CHRISTMAS CAROL 

The Christmas bells are ringing, 

In tones of joyous mirth; 
Glad tidings to us bringing 

Of "Peace, good will on earth." 
They ring to banish sadness 

From every heart forlorn 
And fill our souls with gladness 

Through Christ, the Saviour born. 

Chorus : 

Ring, ring, merrily ring ; heralds of mercy 

are now on the wing; 
Sing, sing, cheerily sing; hearts full of 
praises we joyfully bring. 
Christmas bells ringing, glad voices singing. 
Rendering homage to Jesus, our King. 

23 



Poems — Wise 



Chime forth from belfried steeple 

In every land and clime : 
"Good news unto all people" 

At this blest Christmas time. 
Ring out the Gospel story, 

Its message never cease 
Till Christ, the King of Glory, 

Shall reign, the Prince of Peace. 



There's a feverish pulse now athrob in all climes, 
A mysterious force in the trend of the times ; 
'Tis the spirit of God, in His infinite plan. 
Working out here on earth His great purpose in man. 



24 



And Otherwis 



THE MASTER MARINERl 

When tossed by the tempest o'er life's stormy sea 
And appalled by the sound of the breaker's loud roar, 

Christ the great Master Mariner hastened to me, 
With a compass and chart to safe guide me to shore. 

O, I've reached the blest haven of safety at last, 
Where the dangers no longer my bark can o'erwhelm, 

For the anchor of faith in the bedrock is fast 

And the Master's firm hand is now grasping the 
helm. 

Like the sun, in its glory. His infinite love 

Pierced the gloom with a radiance naught could 
suppress, 

And throughout my long voyage shone steadfast above, 
As a beacon of hope to a ship in distress. 

25 



Poems — Wise 



And though dire was the grief which assailed me that 
night, 
When my poor shattered vessel was blown from the 
track, 
It was turned into joy when its marvelous light 

Gleamed bright through the storm clouds to pilot 
me back. 

Ah, many a bark has been driven like mine 

From the trackway which leads to the heavenly 
strands, 

And so few ever look for a guidance divine 

To escape being wrecked on the treacherous sands. 

Then accept of the Master, who's seeking to save 
Every vessel upon this great ocean of life. 

So that none may sink 'neath the tempestuous wave 
Where the staunchest of sea-crafts succumb to the 
strife. 

26 



And Otherwis 



CHRISTMAS BELLS 

Ring loud and sweet, ye merry Christmas bells, 
Ring till the air with joyous music swells 
And to the world the wond'rous story tells 

Of Christ, whose birth 

Has blessed the earth 
Though in a lowly manger He was born. 

The wise men hailed Him as their Lord and King, 
And shepherds heard the angel heralds sing : 
"Good news unto all people do we bring" ; 

While now, sublime. 

The glad bells chime 
And usher in each merry Christmas morn. 



When the King of all kings shall descend from above. 
To establish on earth His own kingdom of love, 
Then war and its horrors will evermore cease 
And all nations be blessed in a permanent peace. 

27 



Poems — Wise 



A PSALM OF LIFE 

(After Longfellow.) 

Life on earth, O friends, believe it. 

In its noblest, truest sense. 
Is to fit us all to leave it, 

And eternity commence. 

*Tis a precious draught that's given, 
To us mortals from on high ; 

Sparkling fresh from rills in heaven. 
Tasting it we never die. 

Given us for earnest working, 

Duty, love and self-control, 
Never ceasing, never shirking. 

Pushing onward to the goal. 

Let us then be upward pressing. 
Till, at last, the victory won, 

We receive the Master's blessing 

With the welcome words, "Well done.' 

28 



MOTHER SONGS 



SWEET MEMORIES OF BY-GONE DAYS 

Fve just received a letter from my old home in the 
West, 
Which brought to mind the happy days of yore ; 
It told me that my mother dear, of all earth's friends 
the best, 
Had asked to see her wand'ring boy once more. 
Oft in my dreams I fancy I can hear her gentle voice 

And gaze upon her sainted face again, 
Then as she clasps me in her arms my heart seems to 
rejoice, 
While her caress soon charms away my pain. 

Chorus : 
I am going home to mother. 

Soon I'll feel her fond embrace ; 
In this life there is no other 

Who can ever take her place. 
Though her heart is filled with sadness 

And her head is bending low. 
She will bless me and caress me. 

As in days of long ago. 

31 



Poems — Wise 



O, well do I remember how, when but a little lad, 

She watched o'er me with tender loving care; 
For thoughts of her affection true now comforts me 
when sad 
And helps me to life's heavy burdens bear. 
Though many years have passed away since bidding 
her bood-bye, 
And starting o*er this great wide world to roam, 
Sweet memories of by-gone days are wont to make me 
sigh. 
With longing for my mother dear and home. 



And Otherwise 



MY MOTHER! 

A Tribute to Mothers' Day. 

One night, heart sick, I laid me down to sleep, 
And soon a vision fair began to creep 
Within my dreams, as gently as a dove ; 
It seemed as though an angel from above 
Had come to tell me of a mother's love. 
And how she asked each night in silent prayer, 
For God to bless and watch o'er me with care. 

Her depth of love no words of mine can tell. 
Nor direst grief or sorrow ever quell ; 
For there is none so pure, so near divine 
As she who for a wayward son doth pine ; 
When he returns chides not, but doth entwine 
Her arms around and draws him to her heart. 
Whilst life anew to him she doth impart. 

33 



Poems — Wise 



Oh ! when my mother's gone who then remains 
To cheer my Hfe or charm away my pains? 
'Tis she alone who takes me to her breast 
And bids me on her bosom find sweet rest — 
Of all earth's friends she surely is the best — 
And though I search all lands from pole to pole 
I ne'er could find a truer, nobler soul. 



O, mother dear, 'tis many a day, 

Aye months and years have passed away 

Since you and I last met ; 
But the joy and sorrow blended there, 
As your fond heart went out in prayer, 

I never can forget. 



34 



And Otherwise 



IN MEMORIAM 

Thou art gone from our home, dearest mother, 

In the grave Hes thy form in decay, 
And through life we shall ne'er find another 

Whom thy loss can to us e'er repay. 
We shall cherish the words thou hast spoken. 

Though thy voice we can never recall ; 
And remember each love-given token. 

And thy love, which was dearer than all. 

Chorus : 

O, fare thee well, mother, dear mother, farewell, 
How much we all miss thee no tongue can e'er tell ; 
But though thy loved form is now gone from our sight, 
We feel thy blest presence by day and by night, 

By day and by night. 

Though gone from our sight. 
Thy spirit is o'er us to guide us aright. 

35 



Poems — Wise 

But though with the dead thou art sleeping, 

And buried away from our view, 
We are over thy memory weeping, 

Blessed mother, who loved us so true. 
Ah ! Then slumber, yes, quietly slumber. 

In thy tomb with the lone silent dead. 
While our tears sadly flow without number. 

And moisten thy grass-covered bed. 



36 



PATRIOTIC POEMS 



THE CALL TO PATRIOTS 

There's a call for firm resistance 

In response to war's alarm; 
And we all must give assistance 

Lest our country come to harm. 
Every loyal man and woman 

Should take some part in the strife 
To abolish war inhuman 

With its fearful loss of life. 

Though the proud old German kaiser 

Thinks he is the big *'I am" 
He'd have been a great deal wiser 

Had he passed up Uncle Sam. 
He has caused distress and slaughter 

By the most atrocious means, 
And made havoc on the water 

With his ruthless submarines. 

39 



Poems — Wise 



We must, too, consider others. 

Who are struggUng 'cross the sea, 
For the aid we give our brothers 

Helps the cause of Liberty. 
Let us then make preparation, 

FHng ''Old Glory" to the breeze, 
For the safety of our nation 

And the freedom of the seas. 



40 



And Otherwise 



THE EMBLEM OF LIBERTY! 

Our great nation has a flag, that was never known to 
lag, 

When called upon for service true; 
It's the emblem of the free, in the air, on land and sea, 

Wherever it is raised to view. 

Yes, our flag demands respect, and our rights will e'er 
protect 
No matter where we chance to roam; 
While in many a foreign clime, it has been a sight 
sublime. 
Reminding us of "Home, Sweet Home." 

When the noble Washington realized the need of one — 

Inspired by Him who reigns above — 
With the aid of Betsy Ross he designed and put across 

The banner that we all now love. 

It had stripes of red and white, and in corner, blue and 
bright, 

A star to represent each State ; 
Which were added in between, to original thirteen, 

Till now we have just forty-eight. 



41 



Poems — Wise 

The brave Continentals fought and our freedom 
dearly bought, 

Upon the bloody battlefield ; 
By our country's father led, and ''Old Glory" overhead 

They forced their enemies to yield. 

Many times in after years, as in history appears — 

Compelled by wrongs to enter war — 
With the "Stars and Stripes" in front, loyal soldier^ 
bore the brunt 

Like heroes in the days of yore. 

We've a duty now at hand, and together we must stand 

As brothers in the cause of right; 
With a patriotic zeal and "Star Spangled Banner's'" 
leal. 

We're bound to conquer Prussian might. 

Let us honor then our flag, of whose colors bright we 
brag. 

The glorious "Red, White and Blue" ; 
May it ever be unfurled, as the standard of the world, 

For Liberty and Justice, too. 

42 



And Otherwise 



THE SUMMONS! 

Awake, America awake! 

Throw off thy lethargy ; 
The cause of mankind is at stake 
And Justice calls on thee to take 
Thy sword in hand for Freedom's sake 

And World democracy. 

Arise, America arise ! 

With patriotic might ; 
Place trust in Him who is all wise — 
Make sacrifice, economize — 
And strive to fully realize 

Thy duty for the right. 

Prepare, America prepare ! 

No time must now be lost; 
"Speed up" production everywhere, 
Work day and night, and do thy share 
To gain the vict'ry "over there," 

Regardless of the cost. 

43 



Poems — Wise 



Fight on, America fight on! 

As long as God gives breath ; 
Halt not until the war is won, 
Dictate the terms of peace when done, 
And let thine answer to the Hun 

Be : "Liberty or death." 



44 



And Otherwise 



A SOLDIER'S LAST WISH! 

A soldier boy lay dying in a far off foreign land, 
A comrade knelt beside him on the ground, 

Who heard him faintly whisper, as he grasped him by 
the hand, 
These patriotic words to those around: 

I've given my life in Freedom's cause, 

'Tis all that I can do; 
I've fought beneath our grand old flag, 

The loved Red, White and Blue. 
Tell those at home my dying wish 

Was not that I should live; 
But that I had a hundred lives, 

Instead of one, to give. 

They wrapped Old Glory round his form and laid him 
'neath the sod, 
Then slowly marched with mournful hearts away ; 
But. in that solemn moment, ere his soul went out to 
God, 
It seemed as though they all could hear him say : 

45 



Poems — Wise 



I've given my life in Freedom's cause, 

'Tis all that I can do; 
I've fought beneath our grand old flag, 

The loved Red, White and Blue. 
Tell those at home my dying wish 

Was not that I should live; 
But that I had a hundred lives, 

Instead of one, to give. 



DECORATION DAY! 

Once more we gather garlands for the dead, 

And as we strew them o'er each grassy bed 

Let every head in mournful reverence bow, 

From fair-haired child to grandsire's wrinkled brow, 

In honor to the soldier boys who gave 

Their own life's blood mankind's great cause to save ; 

So war with all its horrors soon might cease 

And nations dwell in never-ending peace. 

46 



AiiD Otherwise 



"REMEMBER THE MAINE" 

O, the martyrs of the Maine, 
Their loss was not in vain, 

For through them we freed Cuba 
From the cruel yoke of Spain. 

Though blown up in the night, 
Without a chance to fight, 

With those who died in battle. 
We'll keep their memory bright. 

Upon the first of May, 
In far Manila Bay, 

The gallant Admiral Dewey 
Most nobly won the day. 

He sunk the Spanish fleet. 
Won a victory complete ; 

And gave them "Hail Columbia" 
In a way that can't be beat. 

Once more, on Cuba's shore. 
Came Sampson to the fore, 
And trapped in Santiago 
The Spanish men o'war. 



47 



Poems — Wise 



And when they tried to fly, 
One morning in July, 

The wily old Cervera 
Found more than his match in Schley. 

We gladly honor, too, 
Brave Hobson and his crew ; 
They nobly did their duty 
Though death should be their due. 

Our sailors have no peers, 
In fighting have no fears, 

For the heroes of our navy 
We'll give three rousing cheers. 

L^ENVOI. 

Then remember the Maine and its crew foully slain, 
Their blood cried for vengeance to wipe out the stain ; 
So we conquered old Spain, stopped her barbarous 

reign, 
And this was our battle cry: "Remember the Maine." 

48 



And Otherwise 



BOOZE VERSUS BONDS 

Though you like a glass of beer 
And of liquor, too, are fond; 

Do your duty *'over here" — 
Cut out booze and buy a bond. 

If you haven't bought before 

Nov^, at least, you should respond ; 

You can help to win the war 
By investing in a bond. 

Keep tlie quota well in sight, 
Send it over, far beyond; 

Even though you cannot fight 
You can surely buy a bond. 

Make a cheerful sacrifice 
For the boys across the pond : 

Very soon you'll have the price 
Of a Liberty loan bond. 

49 



Poems — Wise 



PREPAREDNESS! 

America, America ! 

Land of the brave and free, 
Although we pray for peace today 

We owe it unto thee 
To now prepare for war in air, 

On land and on the sea. 

America, i\merica ! 

At sound of war's alarm 
Thy people all will heed the call 

And for thy safety arm ; 
With cause so just in God we trust 

To keep thee from all harm. 

America, America ! 

The time is now at hand 
When we must take, for honor's sake, 

A most decisive stand. 
And bravely fight, for love of right, 

For home and native land. 

50 



And Otherwise 



AN ODE TO WASHINGTON 

My muse could woo no nobler theme 
Nor more heroic deeds rehearse, 

So while some poets fondly dream 
And weave vain fancies into verse, 

My lyre shall seek in rhythmic lays 

The life of Washington to praise. 

Our Country, when in direst need^ 

Base hearts within, stout foes without — 

Looked unto him to take the lead 
And put the enemy to rout. 

He answered Freedom's urgent call 

And on her altar laid his all. 

With ill-clad troops at Valley Forge 

Hardships and hunger's pangs he shared, 

While minions of the despot George, 
Well clothed and fed, in comfort fared. 

When all seemed lost, bowed down with care, 

He humbly knelt to God in prayer. 

51 



Poems — Wise 



The tablet on Old Trinity 
Tells of his masterful retreat, 

And how by skillful strategy 

He vict'ry gained from near defeat, 

Then crossed the icy Delaware 

And captured hireling Hessians there. 

Though sore beset on every hand, 
His generalship won many a field, 

Until at Yorktown's final stand 

He made the proud Cornwallis yield. 

By patriotic zeal imbued 

His Country's foes he there subdued. 

With peace declared on sea and land 
And needful rest his well-earned due, 

He once more took the chief command 
And proved a statesman wise and true. 

A soldier brave, a sage profound. 

His noble virtues still redound. 

52 



And Otherwise 



Let it be writ on history's page : 
''The Father of Our Country," fair, 

Has left a priceless heritage 
For all posterity to share ; 

From Lakes to Gulf, from Sea to Sea, 

The blessings of sweet Liberty. 



A statue stands within our park — 

Which bears his loved and honored name- 
As time rolls on may it e'er mark 

A loyal tribute to his fame. 
Inspiring all who gaze thereon 
To valiant deeds like Washington. 



53 



Poems — Wise 



FLAG OF OUR FATHERS! 

Flag of our fathers, who died for thy glory, 
Giving their lives up in Liberty's name ; 

Gaining our Freedom on battlefields gory, 
May we, their children, ne'er sully thy fame. 

Emblem of Liberty, guide of our nation. 
Pride of our Country and honored afar. 

Let the bright beams of thy full constellation 
Scatter each cloud that would darken a star. 

Flag of the heroes, who fought to preserve thee. 
Spotless and blameless, upholding the right — 

True to thy mission no power could swerve thee — 
Through thee they conquered oppression and might. 

Standard of Freedom should foes e'er assail thee. 
Sounding the tocsin of war's dread alarm, 

Think not the God of our fathers will fail thee, 
Trusting in Him naught can bring thee to harm. 

54 



IRISH SONGS 



THE IRISH EXILE'S SONG! 

There's an isle across the sea which is dearer far to me 

Than any other spot 'neath heaven's dome ; 
It's the land that gave me birth and to me 'tis sacred 
earth, 
Though forced from it long weary years to roam. 
In the silence of the night, as the stars are shining 
bright, 
And nature seems to He in peaceful rest. 
Then my thoughts do often stray to that blest and 
happy day. 
When Erin will no longer be oppressed. 

Chorus : 

Then, it's here's to Old Ireland, my dear native land; 
May she one day be free from oppressive command; 
May her banner with triumph be proudly unfurled. 
And her children respected throughout the whole 
world. 

57 



Poems — Wise 



I've a sadness in my heart, which from it will ne'er 
depart 
Until I hear my mother country call; 
When the message glad shall come, bidding me to 
welcome home, 
The harp will ring once more through "Tara's hall." 
Now, my song is nearly through, but I give it unto you, 

A tribute to my native land machree ; 
And may all true Irish men, with their money, tongue 
and pen, 
Do all they can to set Old Ireland free. 



58 



And Otherwise 



ST. PATRICK'S DAY! 

St. Patrick, Ireland's patron saint, 

Of very great renown, 
First landed on the Emerald Isle 

At famous Dublin town. 
No sooner had he stepped on shore 

Than snakes began to flee: 
He drove them from their holes and dens, 

And drowned them in the sea. 
And since that time on Erin's soil 

No serpent has been seen. 
All owing to the virtues in 

The Httle "Shamrock green." 

Chorus : 

St. Patrick's Day in the morning. 

Hurrah, my boys, hurrah! 
St. Patrick's Day in the afternoon. 

Three cheers for "Erin-go-Bragh !" 
St. Patrick's Day in the evening. 

Each lad and fair colleen 
Took great delight in dancing to 

"The Wearing of the Green." 

59 



Poems — Wise 



St. Patrick was a preacher blessed 

With wondrous eloquence, 
His sermons based on "Gospel Truth" 

Were full of common sense; 
But though we have no chance to-day 

His good advice to hear, 
Upon the seventeenth of March 

We keep his memory dear. 
The secret of his power lay 

In this one fact alone : 
The gift of speech came to him when 

He kissed the ''blarney stone." 



60 



NEWARK CELEBRATION 
POEMS 



NEWARK, PAST AND PRESENT 

Two centuries and a half ago, 

The early part of May, 
A band of sturdy Puritans 

Sailed up the Newark bay ; 
From four towns in Connecticut 

They came to Jersey soil. 
To seek religious liberty 

And for the future toil ; 
When all had safely stepped ashore 

They knelt upon the sod, 
With thankful hearts and hymns of praise 

In gratitude to God. 



The leader of those pioneers 

Was Captain Robert Treat, 
A man of sterling qualities. 

In stature full six feet ; 
His aides were Parson Pierson, 

And the goodly Jasper Crane, 
Who often shared their duties with 

The doughty Samuel Swaine ; 
The rest of that stout company 

Together settled here, 
To live in peace and unity, 

Where none could interfere. 



63 



Poems — Wise 



Those pilgrim fathers laid their plans 

As though they could foresee 
The wonderful metropolis 

Our city was to be ; 
They purchased from the Indians 

The ground we now possess, 
And founded Newark's commonwealth 

By acts of righteousness; 
Then unto each was portioned off 

A plot of fertile land 
Upon Passaic's rugged banks, 

Once picturesque and grand. 



The settlement, at first quite small, 

In numbers grew apace, 
Till now full half a milHon souls 

Here find a dwelling place ; 
And farms, whereon log cabins stood 

In sixteen sixty-six. 
Are sites for splendid structures made 

Of marble, stone and bricks ; 
While what was forest wilderness, 

Now in nineteen sixteen, 
Lie Branch Brook and Weequahic Parks, 

Our city built between. 



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And Otherwise 



In varied forms of industries — 

Increasing every year — 
And steady growth of merchandise, 

Our city has no peer; 
Four thousand of mechanics, skilled 

In every kind of trade, 
With energetic business men, 

Have wond'rous progress made ; 
Here scores of great inventors, too, 

Have gained an honored name, 
And like Seth Boyden, by their works, 

Are linked to Newark's fame. 



Reclaiming salt sea meadows, 

At Port Newark raises hope 
Of building railroad centers there, 

To give our city scope ; 
While dredging out the channel. 

Of the river, shore to shore. 
Will bring the commerce of the world 

To Newark's open door; 
Hence to the clear, prophetic eye, 

A vista bright appears 
Of marvelous development 

Ere many after years. 



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Poems — Wise 



Could those staunch Puritans come back, 

Their former home to view, 
They'd surely find in every way 

Their vision more than true ; 
For never in their fondest dreams, 

Or hopes did they portray 
The greatness and the grandeur 

Of the Newark of today. 
And so we gladly celebrate 

Upon the very spot 
Where erst our city's founders cast 

Their staid and humble lot. 

l'envoi. 

Since poets o'er the nation wide 

Are asked of thee to sing, 
Fair Newark, as thy meed of praise, 

This tribute shall I bring; 
My muse, in a responsive mood. 

Has sought in rhythmic rhyme 
Thy past and present to rehearse 

At this eventful time; 
And may like homage come to thee 

From minstrels near and far, 
Industrial city of our land, 

New Jersey's brightest star. 



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And Otherwise 



A NEWARK CELEBRATION EPISODE I 

There lives upon the mountain side 

A farmer old but hale, 
Who's gained a reputation wide 

As hero of many a tale. 

Like Robert Treat, who settled here 

In sixteen sixty-six, 
He showed he had no sense of fear, 

When in a recent fix. 

This last exploit I'll now relate 

In very simple rhyme, 
And trust that you'll appreciate 

My tribute to the time. 

One morn he hitched his old ox team 

Unto a well-worn cart, 
And as the sun began to beam 

Was ready for a start. 



Poems — Wise 



All went quite smoothly on the road. 

By many a house and farm ; 
While the farmer plied his hickory goad 

Without a thought of harm. 

By noon he reached the town all right, 

But great was his surprise 
To see, while looking up, a sight 

That opened wide his eyes. 

His oxen geed, and hawed, and backed, 

He loudly shouted "Whoa ;" 
But though in looks and style they lacked, 

Gee whiz ! how they did go. 

They dumped the old man, load and all, 
Upon the pavement down. 
And as he rose up from the fall 
Went spinning round the town. 

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And Otherwise 



The farmer thought it very queer 

His oxen, old and tried, 
Should act just like a yearling steer, 

He once had tried to ride. 

The cause of their unlooked for fright 

Was all the glad array 
Of flags and decorations bright 

Strewed out along the way. 

Just then a jitney, bright and new. 
Came around a corner quick; 

The old man gave an awful "phew" 
And reached down for a brick. 

In rustic tones, like "Uncle Josh," 

He started cussing some : 
'*A consarned house on wheels, by gosh, 

I'll stand and let 'er come." 

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Poems — Wise 



The people who were passing by, 

All paused to see the fun ; 
When the farmer let the brickbat fly, 

Which through a window spun. 

It gave a dude an awful whack 

And nearly broke his nose; 
Then went right on with crash and crack. 

Till it lit on an old maid's toes. 

The maiden screamed and hollered "fire," 

A number rang the bell, 
The car then stopped, while full of ire 

They round the old man fell. 

"Look here," said he, "I tell you what, 

I hit the gol blamed thing. 
And if you'll give me another shot 

I'll break its other wing." 

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And Otherwise 



But lo ! a cop sprang up the street, 

As fast as he could bound ; 
He jerked the old man off his feet, 

And sprawled him on the ground. 

"What is this rumpus all about, 

Been beering up I see ; 
I'll take you where you'll sober out, 

So come along with me." 

He roughly grabbed him by the throat. 
And yanked him to his feet. 

When the farmer quickly slipped his coat 
And lit out down the street. 

He ran, you bet, as if "Old Nick" 

Was there in human shape. 
And wished he'd never seen the brick 

That got him in the scrape. 

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Poems — Wise 



But just as he had got a start 

His oxen turned up right, 
He then jumped in his two-wheeled cart 

And soon was out of sight. 

The cop gave up, as well he might. 
For all the good 'twould do ; 

Then wrathfully he put to flight 
The crowd the old man drew. 

The farmer reached his home at last, 

Upon the mountain side, 
And many an evening now is passed 

With yams about that ride. 

He vows that city folks one day 

Will meet a dreadful fate, 
If they don't find some other way 

In which to celebrate. 

N 
) 

72 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THE SONG OF THE "GRIP!" 

I will sing you a song, that is not very long, 

Of the great epidemical craze ; 
It is well named the "Grip," and since first it let slip 

It's assumed a most serious phase. 
There's the Free Mason's grip, the Odd Fellows' grip, 

And the Royal Arcanum as well, 
But the worst of all grips is this Russian "La Grippe," 

With its coughing and sneezing spell. 

'Twas the late Russian Czar, in Siberia far, 

Who started it off with a sneeze. 
And from thence throughout Russia, France, England 
and Prussia 

Spread this awful membraneous disease. 
But alas, we deplore, to America's shore 

This malignant complaint took a trip. 
And from East to West it has given no rest 

To those who have once felt its "grip." 

When it takes you at first, your head seems to burst, 

And each bone in your body to ache ; 
Ambition is gone, appetite you have none, 

While it keeps you in misery awake, 



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Poems — Wise 



But when it grows worse, your fate you then curse, 
For it drives you nigh out of your head; 

To torture a prey, with no rest night or day, 
You oftentimes wish you were dead. 

Now, no one is secure, both the rich and the poor, 

The pauper, the prelate and prince, 
Have felt the strong clasp of the "Grip's" deadly grasp. 

And been forced by it ever to wince. 
Then, my friends, be elated if you've not been fated 

To catch this most dreaded "La Grippe" ; 
For you'll feel it, I'm sure, pretty hard to endure 

If it ever should give you a nip. 

l'envoi 

O, it's cough, cough, cough, and it's sneeze, sneeze, 
sneeze ; 
I will give you a tip, if you once get the grip 
It will give you a mighty tight squeeze. 

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And Otherwise 



MY LADY-LOVE! 

Come sit you down and I will paint 

A picture of my lady love; 
Upon her fame there rests no taint ; 

She's fit to dwell with saints above. 

To me she's fairest of the fair, 
As graceful as a mountain doe; 

With sylph-like form, a queenly air. 
And doth each day more lovely grow. 

Her cheeks outrival June's red rose, 
Sweet lips more tempting than a peach ; 

A dimpled chin, a Grecian nose, 

And shell-shaped ears with gems in each. 

Upon her head a crown of curls — 
Fair flaxen tresses strewn with gold, 

Her teeth are like the purest pearls. 
That e'er were cast in nature's mould. 



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Poems— Wise 



Her pretty hands are pinkish hue — 
'Tis joy to feel their soft caress — 

Her eyes are of deep-sea blue, 
So full of love and tenderness. 

But last of all is what's most rare, 

Two small aristocratic feet. 
To leave these out I would not dare, 

'Twould make my picture incomplete. 

This portrait I present to view, 

Though true to life, leaves one regret, 

No painting can do justice to 

My sweet grand-daughter, Margaret. 



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And Otherwise 



A MASHER MASHED! 

O, listen to me and a story I'll tell 
Of a la-de-da dude, whom I know very well; 
He is handsome and stylish, with plenty of cash, 
And among the fair ladies he cuts quite a dash. 

He courts the sweet damsels while yet in their teens, 
With appearance of truth, when but little he means, 
And when he finds out he has made a mistake 
He skips to some other and gives them the shake. 

Then he jollies the widows and calls them pet names, 
And if there's any trouble 'tis them that he blames ; 
But the young married women are always his choice. 
And to mash one of them makes him fairly rejoice. 

But to come to my tale, without further delay, 
Of this la-de-da dude, who is very au fait, 
I will cease my digressing and tell you just how 
He got himself into a deuce of a row. 

79 



Poems — Wise 



A few weeks ago there came to our city 
A dancer of note, with his wife, sweet and pretty ; 
And as he was kept busy from morning till night 
His fair better-half he could not keep in sight. 

So it happened one day that this la-de-da dude — 
To whom, heretofore, you have heard me allude — 
Soon made her acquaintance and in a short while 
Was escorting her round in the greatest of style. 

Quite early one morn he decided to call 

On this charming young dame, but he met in the hall 

The professor himself, with a cane in his hand, 

And he made the dude dance in a way that was grand. 

He shimmied and tangoed and kicked up his heels. 
And kept time to the music with all kinds of reels ; 
He danced to the tune of the Scotch highland fling. 
And added new steps to the old buck and wing. 

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And Otherwise 



Then he two-stepped and waltzed in the most approved 

style. 
Till at last he was all doubled up in a pile ; 
And when he wound up with a fox trot and jig 
You may wager that he was the sick-looking prig. 

Now his name you may ask, but I never shall tell, 
Should I give it away he'd as soon be in — well. 
I trust he's been punished enough, 
And to lay it on thicker would be rather rough. 

So ril give him a chance to turn over a leaf, 
And hope that in future he'll not come to grief ; 
But from mashing keep free and take deeply to heart 
The well-deserved lesson, although it may smart. 



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Poems — Wise 



BOSTON RED SOX 
VS. 

NEW YORK GIANTS 

(1912 World Series.) 

In Boston, the city of culture, 

With its poets, its paintings and sculpture, 

They vow that baked beans 

Is a dish fit for queens, 
And devour them just like a vulture. 

That's the reason these great giant slayers 
Have "Stahl'd" off McGraw and his players ; 

For the beans and brown bread, 

Upon which they were fed, 
Has developed their powers as stayers. 



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And Otherwise 



(OWED) TO MY PIPE I 

You boast about your fine cigars, 

Of clear Havana ripe; 
But give me pure tobacco and 

My good old briar pipe. 

It satisfies the youthful taste, 

In later life it cheers, 
And is the greatest solace of 

A man's declining years. 

In the morning, when I start about 
My business for the day. 

It fills me with a zeal for work 
And passes the time away. 

At luncheon hour, it also gives 

My meal an added zest; 
It's better far than medicine 

To help my food digest. 

83 . 



Poems — Wise 



While in the evening, as I rest 

At ease in my arm chair, 
Its fragrant odor soothes my nerves 

And drives away dull care. 

Then lastly, when I seek my couch, 

A few whiffs in the dark 
Soon sends me off to pleasant dreams, 

As happy as a lark. 



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And Otherwise 



RETROSPECTION! 

When but a small, mischievous lad 
So many escapades I had, 
I often had to flee from dad 
To some safe hiding place. 

Then I would seek a shady nook 

Below the dam, or by the brook, 

Where patiently I'd sit and hook 

The sunfish, chub and dace. 

'Twas there I had such care-free times — 
Away from cities' noise and crimes — 
While dreaming dreams, that now in rhymes 
I help to fill up space. 

So often do I wish again 
That I was back in Michigan 
A-catching little fish again 
Down by the old mill-race. 

85 



Poems — Wise 



A TRIBUTE TO ROOSEVELT 

A great American has passed away, 
Who, by his loyal service to mankind. 
Has left a priceless legacy behind, 

That all should keep in sacred trust for aye. 

When duty called he brooked of no delay ; 
But through his tireless energy combined 
With foresight keen and comprehensive mind, 

Became the ablest leader of his day. 

Staunch as an oak, devoted, zealous, brave — 
With love for justice in the truest sense — 

One noble son to Freedom's cause he gave 
And sought to go himself to her defense. 

Nov^, though his voice is silent in the grave, 
His deeds speak on with forceful eloquence. 



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And Otherwise 



KEEP PLUGGING 

When things around are going tough 
And people often treat you rough, 
While business don't come fast enough, 
Keep plugging. 

Then when you get them coming fast 
Remember by experience past 
That good things do not always last ; 
Keep plugging. 



Could we but see with other eyes, 
Than those with which we see, 

Our own grave faults, we'd not despise; 
But use more charity. 



87 



Poems — Wise 



How oft we note the tiny mote 
Within our neighbor's eye ; 

But fail to gleam the giant beam 
Which in our own doth lie. 



This life is full of ups and downs, 

Through pleasant paths and rough defiles; 

It's one day smiles, the next day frowns ; 
But oftentimes more frowns than smiles. 



'Tis to be rued that those with noble mind 

Should of ttimes mingle with the "common herd ;" 

In whom there dwells naught noble or refined, 

From whom springs forth no kindly deed or word. 



The rich spin around in an automobile 

And have a great time, I'll admit; 
While the poor man is lucky with any old wheel, 

Or even a ride in a "jit." 



And Otherwis 



I have a friendly feeling for the man who's down 

and out, 
The one for whom nobody cares or wants to have 

about ; 
For who am I to stand aloof with pharisetic pride, 
Or like the Levite, pass by him, upon the other side. 
But like the good Samaritan, who proved a friend 

indeed, 
I'll do the very best I can to help him in his need. 



O, who can fath'm a poet's dreams, 

In which at times he doth create 
Sweet poems from sublimest themes, 

That very few appreciate. 
When lost in deepest meditation 

His eyes are moist with soft desire; 
'Tis then, by purest inspiration. 

His thoughts pour out in glowing fire. 



89 



Poems — Wise 



If time were only money I would be a millionaire, 
I'd buy a stylish limousine and travel everywhere ; 
But as I am a working man and have no cash to spare, 
I hike around the best I can upon old "Shank's mare." 



Old England has her "Union Jack," 

And France her colors three, 
With flags of other nations, 

In the conflict o'er the sea ; 
But though they have responded well 

To Freedom's urgent call 
"Old Glory," with its stars and stripes. 

Is the grandest of them all. 



O, the kaiser had a hunch, with his military bunch, 

That he was bound to be the big "I am" ; 
But he struck an awful snag when he fired upon our 

flag, 

And tried to put it over Uncle Sam. 

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And Otherwise 



At times it seems as though my heart, 
My soul, my being — every part — 
Is filled with music and with joy, 
With love and peace without alloy. 



Midst the struggle and strife of a strenuous life, 

Though hustled and knocked about. 
The man that's worth while meets things with a smile. 

And he's bound in the end to win out. 



Some like the noise of the ocean swell, 

As it beats upon the shore; 
But the welcome sound of the dinner bell 

Appeals to me far more. 



Just criticism is commendable, 
While flattery is abominable. 



91 



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